Crimson
by Malmy13
Summary: The four clans, like any other generation. But something happens, setting the entire forest in an uncured chaos. Two cats aren't all whom they seem to be. They've got the clans chasing their own tails, when the answer has been in front of them all along. {{ Rated T for gore }}
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, nice to see you. This is my second story.. Sorry. I'm not too good at this. But I have an interest for suspense and all. I just felt like it. :3 Thank you for reading and please review!**

**I do not own Warriors.**

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A young lithe orange she-cat stood in front of the entrance of a small hollowed apprentice den. She yawned as she took her paws in front of her into a luxurious stretch, her blazing pelt layering out, moss from her bed falling from her fur.

"Hey, Brightpaw! You up for coming with me and Thrushnose for a border patrol?"

Brightpaw rolled her navy eyes, her claws sheathing, "Sure," she agreed nonchalantly, ".. As long as Markskin agrees!" She added quickly before heading off into the clearing.

She stood up straight, enduring into impassively fixing her paws one after the other, as if she was manifested to be perfect. She clambered in front of the fresh-kill pile, not a lot left, but green-leaf is arriving.

"No time to hesitate when green-leaf flourishes beneath our paws," Brightpaw coughed indignant to herself.

The brilliant sun's rays bled over the trees, flooding the area around her, and causing her to blink rapidly. The hologram her eyes perceived of light was oddly dressed in a dark crimson; it looked like the blood that comes from her skin when injured.

Shivering she turned her back on the sun and trotted up to her mentor whom was sharing a small bird with a larger white tom. Her mentor was a pure black she-cat, her fur almost identical to the forest at night. Yet her past just as black as her pelt, And no matter how close I get to her, she never opens up. So lately I've stopped pestering her in hopes she would open up herself instead of pressuring her to break, she thought.

"Hey Markskin, can you and me go on a patrol with Heartpaw and Thrushnose?" Brightpaw asked, kneeling down to mock the position both the cats held next to her. The she-cat took a minute to attain a halt in her conversation with the large white tom, but eventually she turned to Brightpaw with an answer.

"Well, sure. That sounds great." Markskin nodded, but her tone sounded a bit venomous. Brightpaw shook it off though, must just be a bad morning.

Trotting off in the opposite direction she took enhanced notice in the leader's ledge, where her father, Stumpstar, mainly settled to break news or set patrols. He was someone to look up to, and she was on her way to becoming his successor. In pride she held her tail high above her like a symbolic flag; erecting to enhance her selfish indulgence of honor for once. His mother before him had ruled this clan, and he took her place to set this clan straight. His reign has been good; plenty of food and allies on our side for as long as she can remember. Though, even as great he is, and as much as she loved him; with so much power and luck.. She just longed for his downfall. Though the thought of the clan disowning him, or even his death made her stomach churn. Expecially due to how awfully dreadful the deputy was; the deputy being a blood thirsty monster to almost all the clan-.

"**Agh!**"

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A small paw with incredible strength rips Brightpaw from her clear standing position. All at once she unseathes her claws and hisses at her attacker, whilst hitting the cold hard ground.

Two she-cats flickered stealthy in the dirt, their ginger-red coats imitating the flash of burning hell-fire. Brightpaw stumbled ungracefully to the ground, her thoughts also stripping vividly from her mind to just disappear. She hurriedly flailed for traction, her sea-foam eyes dancing to a quick-paced song as she glared at her dis-mounter. It was a dark ginger she-cat, her tabby marks hardly visible in her red fur. Her emerald eyes engulfed in what seemed to be adrenaline. She was short, and a little smaller on the scale than the majority of apprentices her age. She was clearly a runt.

"Redpaw!" Brightpaw caterwauled fiercely.

Redpaw giggled at her sister's dreaded remark, making her tail wind around her petite paws. "Yes?:" she replied mockingly.

"I've told you to stop, the next time you do that your getting a blow to your whiskers. And they won't grow back!" Brightpaw threatened.

Redpaw seemed unamused at the comment, "C'mon, I know you'd never hit me." she scoffed, "You've told me that to many times now;at least live up to it once."

Brightpaw screwed her face, confused on why Redpaw actually wanted her to hit her. "Bu-"

"I may be a medicine cat apprentice and a runt, but I need to actually start learning to keep grip of my ground in case something comes along that no one around me can help with.." Redpaw scowled at her relentless words, and began to worry Brightpaw.

"Look, you may not be very robust or enduring, but your intelligence is above Starclan." Brightpaw emphasized, her sister brightening up a bit but still in the ungrateful slump.

Redpaw's posture slowly diluted, and she reluctantly padded away into the gorse bushes or the medicine den. Brightpaw's stomach at that moment was then rolled unsteadily with guilt, and she wore a sympathetic look. Quietly, her mentor approached her. "We can go now.." Markskin mummered indirectly and she stood there momentarily, but then turned back around as if trying to ignore the situation. She padded away.

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"Yeah, but I can't fight her!" Brightpaw frowned. Heartpaw watched her sister sympathetically, "Look our sister is smaller than us, her position has no real point to actually hunt or fight. And even in time her mentor will show her some moves and hunting techniques." Heartpaw pointed out correctly for once. "She'll learn over _time_." Brightpaw nodded half-heartly. "Alright but I re-"

Brightpaw was struck mid-sentence, her blood-curdling and her teeth gritting as she heard a dangerously high-pitched screech in the southern area of their territory. Markskin and Thrushnose both imminently stopped their hunting. Their heads peering from above the grasses, their prey making a quick slip away as if on the lamb. Thrushnose quickly began to run in the direction it came from, only after purposely shouldering Markskin across the maw. Glaring after him she shook away her anger, and glared her chocolate gaze at the apprentice's position. "_Stay_." she commanded in one word forcefully. But even with her command, the impact in the scream forced them to follow after the two warriors. Suddenly, she heard the scream again, this time weaker but just as horrific. She almost stopped in her tracks, but her body kept springing forward.

One question shadowed on her thoughts, bog humid.

**_Do I wanna know who's screaming?_**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, do you all want a 'cat chart'? Like the chart they use in the beginning of the books, and it tells you the discription of every cat. I might even throw in a relationship chat in there aswell. hmm? And sorry about the slow beginning, gotta get it out there.. **_**Thank you for reading, and please reveiw!**_

**I do not own Warriors.**

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Heartpaw POV

Heartpaw and Brightpaw bounded like foals to the heels of their mentors, mimiking every twist and turn in the growth. Adrenaline pumped richly through her veins, as they ran to the screech.

When they reached their destination, they skidded to a minor halt, leaf-litter showering from beneath their paws due to the skidding stop. Heartpaw wafted her tail down her own flank, ridding it of any thorns or debris the best she could. Looking forward at Markskin and Thrushnose, they were oddly tense.

"He-"

"Shh.." Markskin inturuppted Brightpaw as she began to speak, but her apprentice took notice of the command, and quieted. And listened.

A heavy breathing was shrouding around us, and a familiar stench was glooming the vicinity. _Windclan stench. _Heartpaw knew this strong odor due to the time she relentlessly flirted with a Windclan tom, his pelt smelled like the pale wildflowers and lush grass that plainly grew along their vast vaccent territory. But something else that stung her senses, though it was newer to her. She followed it's smell, her maw gaping in hopes of gripping a better trail, when she knocked her paw on something warm and.. wet? Looking down at what she had touched, she began to coil back, her eyes dilating, she screamed.

"What is it?" Thrushnose rushed forward to his terrified apprentice. She fell back, meek and shivering.

He examined around her, when he noticed the body. "Markskin.." he beckoned. He looked away from the dead.

"What is i.." she stopped. Must've seen the corpse. "Oh.. not Nosestorm.." she sympathized. Her ears began to fall, and her legs looked like they had grown weary.

"We need to take him back to Windclan.."

"Alright, get his legs. I've got is paws.."

As they lifted him, is head almost fell right off his body. Markskin screeched and drew back, dropping his front paws and in tears. Heartpaw's sister approached her mentor, licking the black she-cats head soothingly. Thrushnose looked down at her, his eyes looked full of dread and empathy. "Wanna help me?" he looked back to Heartpaw. She nodded and stepped forward. Her eyes could help but examine the mutilated warrior, his legs looked shredded and his tail was gone, his neck was slit just perfectly. Her stomach churned, making her almost throw up in her own mouth. She convulsed for a moment, and Markskin stood. Nodding, they both took part in taking him back to Windclan, and Brightpaw was sent to go inform the clan. Though something was off, Brightpaw seemed very calm, even a little enthusisatic.. _Maybe it is just my mind.. _Heartpaw informed herself reluctantly. She than focused on making her way across the moor.

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When she arrived she was greeted with an apprentice, looking about a moon older than her. His fur bristled as they approched, but when he noticed Nosestorm he shook his head. His amber eyes began to fill with tears, but instead of breaking he lead them into the camp. "Thunderclan warriors have arrived with Nosestorm!" he caterwauled informally, and heads peered from their bushes and small fern roofs. A sudden rusty she-cat exploded from the clearing, almost a clone of the breaking apprentice next to her. But the she-cat's hopeful bound slowly grew into a dreaded canter.. She stopped.

"Is he alive?" she whimpered pitifully.

"Maroonstep.. I'm..so very sorry.." Markscar reluctantly mummered.

Maroonstep suddenly began to cry aloud, "Not another!" she rampaged as Markskin, Heartpaw and Thrushnose eagerly dispersed of the body on their shoulders.

"Another?" Thrushnose thought aloud.

Suddenly, a large pure white tom emerged from the grasses, his eyes practically glowing in the turbulent dark. "Yes, another. In this past moon, over 5 of our warriors have been mutilated.. This makes six..." he implied. His gaze then went from upset to angered, Heartpaw took a step back. "The gathering is soon, and I will find this murderer." The tom stepped forward toward Thrushnose, touching the bridge of his nose to Thrushnoses' maw, he growled, "And if he's in your clan, or anyone else's. You will pay.."

Thrushnose nervously nodded, "Yes, Brightstar." He commented, holding back nervous tremors.

The Windclan leader than dismissed us. "May Starclan go with you.." he mummered.

"May they help you and your troubles." Markskin sniffed, almost in a sob. Why did she like this tom so much?

As Heartpaw left, more and more cats began to emerge from their dens, to visit the passed. She noticed two more apprentice's looked just like Maroonstep, but had both Nosestorm's facial structure and ears.. They must've been his kin, Maroonstep his mate. As of, they wailed the loudest, or said nothing at all..

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**I may make another chapter today. nyeh.**


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